Page 93 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

While Kostya returns to the office, I motion for Liya to help Zoya. The two of them huddle together and inch into the hallway.

“Left,” I whisper.

Liya moves without hesitation while Zoya stumbles a bit. After a few seconds, they find their pace together.

“Bedroom,” I instruct.

Liya pivots right and pauses in the center.

“In the back,” I whisper. “The panel to the left of the shower. Push on it.”

Liya nods and grabs Zoya’s hand. I turn around and aim the gun back at the hallway as I back toward the girls. A series of rhythmic thumps echoes through the penthouse. It sounds like a battering ram. The shredder whirls from the office, and the sound of a lighter clicks right after that.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly as I back into the bathroom. I hear the familiarclickof the panel popping open and only turn when I’m sure no one has entered the suite just yet.

Once we’re safely behind the door, I pull out a flashlight and position it over my gun, aiming both down the stairwell.

“Stay behind me,” I instruct. “Stick tight.”

“Where’s my father?” Zoya asks shakily.

“Basement,” I reply.

She sniffles. “We need to get him.”

“No time.”

“You’re full of shit, Pash!” she snaps.

Liya touches my shoulder lightly and says, “A trip to the basement could give us enough time to convince any cops downstairs that we’ve taken another route out. Or that we aren’t home.”

The stairs roll endlessly ahead as I mull over her logic. She’s not wrong. I just don’t want to take any extra steps. This place is too hot—and soon, it’s going to be lit up like a damn Christmas tree with all sorts of prying eyes and greasy fingers.

I sneer. “We have to move quickly to get to the garage.”

“One stop, Pavel,” Liya assures me. “I promise.”

I exhale loudly. “No more delays after that. Understand?”

“Yes, my love.”

My love.

Has she ever called me that? Or is it the importance of the situation that’s inspired her?

The stairs give way to stone tunnels that lead us to the basement. We wander in through a rear entrance and rush to the cell where Kiril is connected to tubes and monitors. Zoya flings herself forward and drapes herself over Kiril. He grunts in disbelief.

“Zoyechka,” he gasps weakly. “Thought I’d never…see you…”

“Daddy,” she whimpers. She kisses his knuckles and then presses his palms to her cheeks. Tears stream from her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. I’m not leaving you again.”

While they share a few more words, I turn to Liya. But before I can say anything, Kiril looks directly at me.

Zoya flips around and growls, “You’re abastardfor doing this to him! For hiding him from me! Me!”

Am I? I could have left him to die in the back of the car while sending Stepan to do something else.

But I didn’t.

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